


I’m not begging, but I want you

by orphan_account



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hanahaki Disease, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Soulmate AU, Suicidal Thoughts, mentions of illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Boris and Theo are soulmates but Theo refuses to believe it’s romantic. It’s not until things start to change that he realises what’s important to him
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Kudos: 26





	I’m not begging, but I want you

Boris hated this more than anything. He hated that Theo couldn’t just be honest with himself. It caused a knot to sit in Boris’ stomach every single time something happened between them, like being allowed to taste something but not allowed the entire thing. They were soulmates. Born to be a pair, the black ink on Boris’ hip bone the infamous words Theo had first said to him “fuck you” in Cyrillic lettering, but of course Theo insisted it was platonic. 

“Potter, you never show me your soul mark” he tried, curiosity getting the better of him one day. He needed to see it, was it written in the beautiful Cyrillic lettering that Boris’ was? Was it somewhere that anyone could see it if Theo forgot to cover it up?  
Theo let out a strange frustrated grunt in response, getting up and retrieving a wet towel from the bathroom. He wiped the towel back and forth along his inner arm, high up and near his armpit. Boris remained confused until he saw the Cyrillic lettering appear, hiding beneath a layer of skin coloured make up that blended so flawlessly. 

“Happy now?” Theo shouted, a little too loud for the room. If anything, Boris regretted asking. There was only one reason his beloved Potter would cover such a mark with make up on what must have been a daily basis. 

“Why hide it? It’s Cyrillic, not just anyone can read it-“ 

“They’ll know its you” Theo shouted even louder this time. His face red with a mix of embarrassment and anger, breaking Boris’ heart into two clean pieces. Theo didn’t want him, didn’t want people to know they were destined to be together. To Theo, they were friends and nothing more. 

“Is that a bad thing? Besides not just anyone sees you without shirt on Potter, Is make up that necessary?” His mind was swimming, the knot in his stomach growing impossibly tight, he needed to leave but he needed answers. He needed Theo. 

Theo sighed, dropping back down onto the bed with his back towards him. An invisible wall between them separating them from ever sealing their fate. He took a sip of the now warm beer on the floor beside the bed and hissed, making him appear much older in the moment. 

“I’m not gay, Boris. People can’t read what it says, they might think its something that it’s not. We’re best friends. That’s all we’ll ever be and you know that, I don’t know why you keep asking about it” 

-

Boris lay awake, the first night in his own bed in months. His dad wasn’t here, no theo and no Popchyk to keep him entertained or content. Instead he lay alone with his thoughts and the assortment of various substances he’d managed to score from classmates. 

He needed Theo to tell him that he changed his mind, that of course he loved Boris properly. Nothing had ever been strictly platonic between them. He knew it wouldn’t happen, Theo would never give in to who he actually was. He was always going to pretend to be straight, to talk about his love for some girl called Pippa who he can barely remember what she looks like. This was too much. Boris never felt heartache before Theo came into his life, not like this. 

He was used to his dad’s beatings, he was used to being considered dumb because he wasn’t American, he was used to living in an abandoned housing estate in the middle of Las Vegas. But Theodore Decker came and made Boris feel like more than just a punching bag, made him feel like he was smart; like he wasn’t alone in the middle of nowhere. 

He sighed, moving to wrap his arms around his pillow instead of resting his head on it. He wanted to cry, something that rarely happened these days, but fighting with a soulmate was something that was hard to just deal with. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey he’d stolen from his dad’s cabinet that was conveniently beside his bed and chugged a good half of it. He passed out before he had to think anymore about how Potter wasn’t in his arms.


End file.
